


four reasons to fuck the Inquisitor and countless reasons to love Arya Trevelyan

by pixiedurango



Series: The Arya Trevelyan Files [16]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Smutty, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, pixiesmut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedurango/pseuds/pixiedurango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from the Stormcoast where he had sworn to explain everything to her and failed with it. Blackwall sits musing and brooding over too much ale.<br/>His mind wanders and he finds him self entangled into fantasies about the Inquisitor that almost drive him mad with guilt. But he cannot quit either, because Arya Trevelyan is hitting on him. Hard!<br/>A talk with Sera makes him see things different. Literally.<br/>And finally he can make a decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four reasons to fuck the Inquisitor and countless reasons to love Arya Trevelyan

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble about Blackwalls dirty mind... My fingers slipped. Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> It's no smutfic but in the first third he has so many dirty thoughts about Arya that I have to take it under the "mature" cut. If you are looking for a bang-fic you'll not find it here.

**Aryas body**

Triumphant laughter while swirling her deadly staff over her head. Attacking fast and furious, dancing and ducking away from his blows like an imp, barely using the defense techniques he so desperately tried to teach her again and again. Making his head spin and his feet stumble and when he was already about to fall, she jumped on him, her legs pushing him down on his back with an amazing amount of strength, just to leave the deadly staff blade at his throat. Having her sitting on his chest with heavy breath, sweating and dirty from the dust with glowing eyes and a hot and tensed body gave him immediately the weirdest boner ever. And he was sure she had recognized it. Regarding her snickers when she got off from him after mounting him definitely longer than appropriate and necessary.

„Touché! You’d better watch your back or this Apostate will eat you alive!“ are her words. Thrown at him casually almost careless while already leaving. Swaying hips and twirling staff in one hand. And from this moment he is wishing nothing more than that she would do just that: Eating him alive.

**Aryas hands**

Long slender hands holding the reins of her mount. Tendons were moving and strong blue veins on their back were telling of a hard grip and being used to lift heavy things. Not a ladys’ hand but one telling him about work and battle. _Blackwall_ was able to admire that.

The way she sat on a horse showed that she might have grown up with noble mounts but lacked of practice.

„I’ve been taken to the circle by the age of eleven. There were no horses...“ had been her snappy answer to his question. He had stopped asking and showed her tricks to master her mounts.

The deep black mare had been a gift from an Antivan noble house. No one dares to get close to the animal which is nervous, untamed and trembling and always on the edge to stampede. He had been the only one who has his ways with her and so naturally he becomes the one responsible.

Until the day he catches her trying to feed the mare apples and carrots. Obviously raided from the kitchen because they are well grown and fresh unlike the stuff they usually get to feed the animals as an extra.

He is holding his step, ogling around a corner.

The mares’ eyes are turning inwards and she begins to prance and he gets ready to jump to the rescue. But it’s unnecessary. The horse calms down almost at once and is taking the goodies with tender lips from her hand and Arya begins to pet her. Telling sweet and silly stuff while running her hands over the twitching velvet skin and running her fingers through her mane.

When he sees the horse calm down and how caring and soft but at the same time determined and confident her hands are touching the nervous beast he relaxes a bit but remains to stand still and continues watching her from his hidden place.

Without really thinking about what he is doing he begins to imagine how it would feel if she’d caress _him_. He is absolutely sure she knows how to touch a man to please and he can not help but imagine those hands would do for him what he is doing to him self way too often after he had joined the Inquisition.

Her hands on him. Circling around his cock. Caressing, teasing, stroking his throbbing length. First soft and slow, getting firmer and faster after a while until... He closes his eyes in his desperate arousal, leaning his forehead against the wooden wall he is hiding behind.

_Maker, this has to stop!_

Suddenly she looks up in alarm. Seemingly she heard the slightest shuffle of his feet or one of his suppressed breaths and now her head snatches into his direction. Her defense reflexes set in and there is already a bristle in the air from her basic storm abilities.

‚ _Just like a wild horse. A black haired, untamed little filly...’_ he randomly thinks while still being entangled within his daydreams of the Inquisitor doing naughty things to him.

Meanwhile the horse jumps and starts shrieking because she is sensing Aryas sudden tension and he has to drag his thoughts off from what he’s wishing her hands would do for him. He’s stepping around the corner, hopefully casual enough as if he is just arriving. But he can not fool her and he would bet she is having a good guess that he may was watching her and what kind of thoughts he just had. Maybe his burning eyes were giving him away. Maybe she was recognizing the bulge in his pants which had been inevitable after the things he just was allowing him self to think.

Any way, her smirk becomes saucy and her words are daring him once again: „A copper for your thoughts. Warden Blackwall... or what ever they may be worth...“

He swallows but he can not resist: „They are priceless, my lady.“ He replies taking up her sauciness into his own voice.

„You must tell me about them then. I’m always eager to learn about priceless stuff.“ Unconsciously Arya is nuzzling the trembling mare again until she is calm. Huffing and finally bending her big black head into her trough seemingly content and chewing on some hay and only her ears keep on twitching constantly showing that she still is at guard.

„Again I have to tell you that I have to consider it carefully.“ He manages to find back into the appropriate reluctance he had prescribed him self but she is only raising one eyebrow in amusement.

„Sure, Warden Blackwall. I wish you delightful _considerations_.“ Her smile is the sassiest he had ever seen on a woman’s face.

**Aryas ass**

Her round ass on a horseback, the firm thigh muscles moving under the soft leather of her breeches.

He is bored by the long - so far - uneventful march and is catching him self repeatedly letting his hungry eyes wandering over her backside. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible leading his mount in a better position for his observations.

Her reins hang lose and she is only directing her black Antivan mare with the pressure of her shanks and heels as he was teaching her when they trained the basics of mounted fights together.

And once again he’s ending up having dirty fantasies about the Inquisitor.

Having those wonderful strong legs wrapped around his body demanding him to fuck her deeper with soft - or even better - not so soft pressure. Or even slung around his neck while towering over her. She would be flexible like a dancer and his thrusts would make her moan... And Maker forgive, seeing this thighs spread left and right beside his head while he would...

Blackwall has to hold his breath for a moment to prevent him self from letting out a desperate groan.

He knows he must stop that kind of fantasies immediately.

He has already decided that it was best to forget her. Not encouraging her pushing forward anymore. Ignoring her attempts to flirt with him. _Flirting_... what an understatement! She is hitting on him _full force_ , when ever she can and it does not make it easier for him to draw back again and again.

Even worse: He likes the way she’s approaching him. Her talking and teasing and her physicality. To deny himself something he is longing to have so desperately and at the same time getting it offered so aggressively makes it almost impossible to withstand any more.

„Enjoying the sight, Warden Blackwall?“

 _Fuck!_ She had caught him staring. Again. Her voice is so innocent but the side looks she is shooting at him under half casted eyes make him almost blush.

„Well my lady, I’m all for the beauty of nature. Curves and hills and... mounds.“ He can’t help to reply and behind them that priggy Tevinter Mage is snorting from suppressed laughter.

„Yes,“ she’s replying with a utterly serious voice. „the Exalted _Plaines_ are famous for their _extensive_ hilly landscape.“

„I am delighted to come to discover all those exciting places, my lady.“

„Get a room, you two.“ The Tevinter is blurting from behind and she smiles her sweetest smile right into his face, his heart and into his bits when she replies:

„Don’t you worry, Dorian. We _will_!“

**Aryas tits**

She was stripping down to her smalls and wading a few steps into the ice cold water of the river next to the camp. They are in the fields and trust each other with their lives. There is not much space for too much of modesty. And beside that she would not complain if Blackwall would admire a bit more what she is offering him so generously.

And of course he admires, no! Desires what he is seeing. But he still is fighting with his inner demons who are telling him constantly to stay away from her. So he’s torn between his wish to see more of her beauty and the fear of not being able to resist anymore by what he is probably getting to see.

Her tits are perfect. A bit more than a handful (estimated by _his_ hands, and he has no small ones) with round darker areolas and some nice large nipples. The water is cold and they are showing it by standing firm at attention.

He already is standing in the waist high water.

Pretending to be busy with washing off dust and gore and the ugly smell of burning corpses and violent death, he could not help but keep on ogling her from his place.

His mind is already wandering and he knows he will have to stay in that fucking cold water for some time.

He wants to have those nipples in his mouth. Suck them in. Roll them between his lips. His teeth. He would bet some good pouch of silver that she would want the teeth.

He can almost taste the saltiness of her skin and he is licking his lips in an unconscious reflex.

Sliding his tongue over her skin. Maker, how much he desires that. It had been a long time in general but a _fucking_ long time now that it _meant_ so much to him. _Now_ , of all times! _Why now_? And why _her_?

Aggressively he continues to rub his arms and torso to get rid of the clingy dirt and to distract him self from all the lecherous thoughts he has on the Inquisitor. He is not worthy to have her and no matter how much she seems to be into him, he has to be the one staying reasonable.

„Would you mind helping me with my backside, Warden Blackwall?“

 _Maker why_?

Why she had to be so daring all the time? Provoking him, teasing and offering things he was not able to decline for much longer anymore.

The first time he had made her his fantasy while touching him self, it had been a desperate and ridiculous attempt of overcoming his desires by giving into them for only one time.

By now he already knows it is pointless but he continues to do it because he is longing for her so desperately and already feels as he will never get enough. He is reasonable enough to know he will not successfully fight wanting her by jerking off while fantasizing about her. So he already is accepting the feelings of guilt that hit him every single time after a few moments of poor and pathetic, unworthy relief. But he also can’t just quit.

And as long as she will continue to literally rub her own wanting into his face this game will continue until he will blast it all into catastrophe.

He is forcing him self back from his musings into the moment. He assumes she is asking to help her wash her back and for a moment he is glad that no one else is around she can ask.

He almost snorts about his own weird thoughts. They have not even been kissing but he is considering her already his.

‚ _Ridiculous,’_ he chastises him self. _‚You keep on pushing her away and call her your lady at the same time over being jealous like a whippersnapper... get your shit together, T... Blackwall!’_

He is sighing deeply. „My lady, are you sure you want that?“ he is asking and while he is speaking he already knows, he will regret that stupid question.

She is wading towards him and now turns her back at him.

The scratches are nasty, deep red and are looking utterly painful. So deep they are still bleeding and are already beginning to turn into inflammation. He is absolutely positive that they are burning like fire. There’s still a lot of dirt within the wounds and he has seen enough things like that in his life to realize at once that cleaning up this mess will be a horrible pain for her.

Now he definitely is sure that this time he was misreading her approach and feels miserable about it. So he is not startled when she is snarling at him: „Blackwall, I need _help_ and did not ask you to fuck me on the riverbank!“

He is gulping. „Of course my lady. My apologies. Let’s see what we can do with that.“ And he carefully begins to clean out her wounds.

He knows she means non of the nasty and utterly empurpled curses she is throwing at him and he has to snicker at some of her florid word creations.

When he is done he is patting her shoulder but can not resist to dismiss her with one hearty slap on her ass.

She is jumps with a screech and turns around. The daring saucy woman was back after a moment of friendship and true comradery: „Oh, so this is your jam? I’ll keep that in mind, Warden Blackwall.“ She is smiling and seemingly enjoys seeing him blush. And she is not done with him yet. „And regarding the previously mentioned riverbank: I think you can call it a generous offer now after we took care of my other priorities...“ she is running her wet fingers over his biceps and over his shoulder, down through the dark chest hair until she comes to stop in playful circles just above the waterline around his navel. He does not dare to breathe. Her eyes locked with his when she adds: „Though I would have to insist on being on top today...“ she is pointing at her back with a grinning face. „and I would be utterly sorry if you could not handle a woman on top.“

He knows he should not react on her provocation for the sake of what was the right thing to do. But having her in front of him. Almost naked with some nipples which could stab his eye out and offering him to fuck her right away is too much to leave it unanswered. He can possibly prevent him self to stretch out his hand and drag her into his arms and simply do what she is asking for. But he can not remain silent: „Don’t you worry, my lady. I never had any issues with female _superiors_. And also none who ever served _under me_ had anything to complain.“ He holds his breath barely believing the conversation he is just having.

She is just smiling approvingly and stretches herself on her toes so she can reach his bearded cheek to blow a kiss on it.

„I think we should discuss a promotion soon, then.” She is whispering into his ear. She is close. Closer than necessary and her beautiful breasts are pressing against his skin. She lifts one foot from the ground and slides along one of his legs with hers. Just for the blink of a moment and then she is gone again. And with a last wink she is turning away and wades out of the water.

Leaving him aroused, confused and almost going crazy about what we is wanting and knowing he better should to.

~ ~ ~

„ _ **You a fucken pisspot tonight, Beardy. No fun. At all.”**_

_Sera tried to make one of Cassandras disgruntled noises._

_Blackwall had nothing to reply. She was right. And he was an asshole. No, swearwords would not even slightly describe what he was._

_He was a disgrace. To everything. To everyone. Most of all to him self. And to the woman he already wanted way too much._

_He had intended to become a better man._

_Instead?_

_Lies. Fucking lies! He kept on lying to the only person who could possibly be able to help save his rotten soul._

_Thoughts slowly got slurry when he took another tankard and emptied it almost in one huge gulp. He was not even thirsty. He was desperate._

_Slowly losing grip on everything._

 

„I will explain _.” Had been his promise when he asked Arya to travel back to the Stormcoast. He had failed. Again._

_This was not supposed to be, he tried to convince him self but knew it was in vain. The moment he would lay down his head and close his eyes she would be there._

_And he would continue to think of her._

_Hands clenched desperately around him self thinking on things that could not be and yet he would not be able to stop._

_Her eyes. Her mouth._

_His cock inside her mouth looking up to him with this sparkling violet eyes._ Lusty and eager to please _would be written all over this pretty face. Holding him tight with her lips, sucking in, circling her tongue around his tip until finding the spot he needed to let go. Pressing her tongue against it. Letting off again. Teasing. Letting him fuck her mouth. His fist grabbing her hair pushing in and out..._

Maker _. He had to stop this!_

_First he had to stop drinking and then he needed to stop dragging her into his dirty mind._

_Was it really only_ this _?_

 _Was he only into her because he wanted to_ fuck _her?_

_Nothing more than a pretty face and a great ass he would love to..._

Don’t do this!

„ _You are thinking. About shagging Quizzie. Again!” Sera stated and slid even closer next to him at the counter of the Herald’s Rest._

„ _No I don’t” But he knew he would not be successful denying it._

„ _You do! And you make silly problems. About nothing. Go and have her. She’s waiting. And friggin' hot for you.” She made one of her faces he supposed it was meant to be a serious one as a sign she was talking serious matters with him._

„ _It’s not that simple, Sera.” he tried to explain. „She’s the Inquisitor. And I am a...”_

„She is the Inquisitor... _” she aped him and burst into laughter about her funny self, totally missing that he wished he could punch him self over almost blurting out his despicable secret in a drunken ramble. He tried to find more explanations:_

„ _Yes this is who she is and it’s not right to think of her the way I do. I feel like a dirty bastard for having all those thoughts about her and acting the way I do.” he confessed. He knew Sera would never judge him for the things he did when he was alone and she would keep it for her self. And he felt all this so heavy on his heart so he was grateful he could finally talk to someone who would maybe make fun of him at first but would not hold it against him._

_Like expected Sera was unimpressed and shrugged. „Then stop thinking and playing with your bits.” her disgusted face made him almost chuckle but at the same time he felt like choking from guilt and shame. Sera did not care and rambled on: „Go to her and ask her doing it instead. She will be happy getting her hands or what ever on you. Finally, right?”_

„ _This is not the way.” Blackwall insisted._

„ _Only way for getting some bits together where they belong, hear me? Yours. And hers. I mean.” she was not to convince and not to stop anymore. „Listen, Beardy. You are great. Of course, too broody and too hairy and... waaaay too bitsy...” she snickered. „You know what I mean, right? But Quizzy likes you. And you likes Quizzy. A lot! A great deal a lot!” she made a gesture with her arms that seemed to be entitled to include the whole world. „No sense lying to your self, right? Or to me. I already know. You don’t care only for banging her right. You have feely feels, hear me? And be scared from them because too many, right? Don’t be. At least I think, you must not be. She’s all in for you. Would not let you down. She’s not that kind of bitch, leaving folks she cares for, right?” Sera fell silent and mused into her own tankard._

_Seras words were working deep inside him. Was this true? Was there more than him just wanting to fuck a beautiful, powerful woman?_

_Surprisingly he felt almost sober at once and took this as a sign to examine how much of what Sera just mentioned he would really find inside when he seriously went searching. He got the bartender to brew him a whole pot of strong coffee and looked at Sera, still not sure what to make out of all this._

Was there more?

 _Could he really be_ in love _with the Inquisitor?_

_Of course she was hot and when he thought about her, when she hit on him, there was this wanting. But what was beyond this?_

„ _Too fucking much. Again! Stop that shit!” Seras blurting voice again in his ear._

„What _?” he grunted back, slowly running out of patience._

„ _Brooding. Stop! Brooding! Andrastes golden knickers, get over it, hear me? You want to fuck her. No wrong! But hey...” she poked her skinny elbow into his side. „You! Now! Gimme only three things of her you like that has nothing to do with bits and tits! Real stuff, right? Feelsy things that make you warm in your tummy. You go!”_

„ _Well, you know her...” he smiled. The first real smile he had shown tonight. And Blackwalls memories began to wander with no hesitation._  

**Arya**

When all her body is shaking. From laughter. Deep, throaty and with all her heart. Not that her silly, filthy joke is that funny but it takes the tension out of an aggressive situation at a tavern where the Inquisition party has stumbled into a nest of shady merchants who are in fact nothing more than bandits in fancy clothes. Her face is bright and smiling and she already is patting one of the brawlers on the back and is ordering drinks for all. After all the killing and brawling lately it is a welcome solution and she has accomplished it with a joke and her laughter that seems to be able to win wars.

**Arya**

Leading her battalion through the never ending pouring rain of the Fallow Mires.

They are beyond tired and worn out. Weeks on the road. Rain and dirt and gore and Living Dead literally everywhere. None of them is not in pain and the way to go is still too long. The mounts are almost done.

„We camp!“ Arya shouts. „Everyone unmount! See that it’s taken care for your animal, someone try to make a fucking fire and then we’ll see if I can brew something eatable from the crap that’s left. We’ll stay at least three days.“

„Inquisitor, is this wise?“ Blackwall is insisting though he is in pain and almost at the end of his strength. Bull is nodding affirmative. „The Fallow Mire is no save place and we need go forward to rescue the missing soldiers, Boss.“

„No one will be of any use if dead. And I will not sacrifice anyone by sending weak troops into hordes of Undead and furious Avvar. Go to sleep! Take care of your bruises! Chances are better if we recharge before striking. Off with you, I say! Catch sleep as much as you can. First watch is mine!“

**Arya**

Sitting to rest in an improvised Inquisition camp that is getting slowly crowded with refugees.

„I’m not gonna eat that. Give my ration to them.“ And she is pointing over to a bunch of refugees. Dalish from the deeper forests. Looking utterly petrified from the horrors they have seen. Children with running noses and empty eyes. All that those people were able save from their burning aravelles they do carry on their shoulders now.

„Go and look if we can spare one or two of our mounts so they can load their belongings and get carried their elders. Let one of our healers speak with their First what goods and herbs we can provide to help. And anyone go and bring me an Dalish scout from our ranks to guide them to the keep! They need a familiar looking face around so they can find their trust in the Inquisition.“ 

**Arya**

Standing in front of a smirking soldier. „I do not care from which fucking noble house you are!“ She is furious in front of the cocky Lieutenant in Inquisition armor and from the distant there is already thunder rolling. „If I catch wind that you ever again treat one of your men like shit for being not from a noble house, I’ll personally kick your ass and you will find yourself promoted to be the head of Inquisition latrines by cleaning them all alone! And you!“ she is swirling around, pointing her finger on a bunch of silly grinning recruits who are poking each others sides with their elbows for their superior is being called to order. „We are not here for fun. I know, a warm bedroll and 3 meals a day plus some decent armor means a lot to you. Go and earn you that shit! We must work together to end this fucking war and I will not tolerate bullying from any direction. So consider my offer to become latrine officer also stretched out to you! Work together or we all will go down! Now off to your duties and in the evening I’ll meet you bunch at the Heralds’ Rest for an ale!“ 

**Arya**

Carrying flowers to the shrine of an unknown Elfen woman. Kneeling down, cleaning the withered place, taking a moment of unexpected contemplation before she gets up to continue their daily work of fighting and killing.

Taking all the way back to bring that Elfen widow the ring of her dead husband just for a hug and some friendly words.

Delivering medicine for one coughing refugee with no complaints about the extra ways to go.

**Arya**

Finding words of compassion for a young man who just had to learn from her that his beloved is dead and gone. Sitting with the guy and listening to his grief and sorrows. Finally offering him a place in the ranks of Inquisition which he accepts, glad to find a new cause.

**Arya**

Sparing the time to collect herbs for the healers to provide better treatments for the refugees. Getting up extra early before packing and marching to go hunting for rams to feed the people at the Crossroads.

Climbing over rocks and stones to find hidden supplies for the Inquisition and the growing number of refugees. 

**Arya**

With tears in her eyes when she has to kill some fellow Apostates gone mad. Clenching her teeth while examining the corpses at the battlefield after the brawl is over. A young scholar at her back, scribbling down the names and collecting everything of value before anyone can raid the dead. Later she is sitting down, writing letters to the families of the fallen Mages and also to those of the fallen Templars.

**Arya**

Being utterly shocked after talking to a Tranquil abandoned and helpless in Redcliffe. Accepting his offer to work for the Inquisition with no hesitation. Taking care that he finds an acceptable place to stay personally and dropping by from time to time to learn useful stuff about Alchemy from him and checking on him if he is treated well. 

**Arya**

Standing in the Haven chantry with burning eyes.

„If Corypheus wants me, then I’ll go if I can give you all a chance by doing so.“ She was talking about a suicide mission. Offering the ultimate sacrifice to Cullen. Just to start an argument with Blackwall about unnecessary sacrifices. Finally- unwillingly - accepting that he, Bull and Varric have to go out with her to give her at least a little chance. Making them swear that they will immediately retreat by her order with no further discussion.

„I’m not willing to sacrifice any of you!“ she states even more stubborn as usual but her eyes are only on Blackwall. 

**Arya**

Lying in the snow. Almost dead, barely breathing, injured, confused, hurt. His feelings when Commander Cullen is wrapping his coat around her and carries her back to camp. Wishing he had been the one to carry her back to life. But silently accepting and happy that she is here at last. Sitting next to her bed every time he can spare a second. Holding her hand. First ice cold, later burning hot from the fevers that are shaking her entire body. Wiping away sweat and tears and whispering soothing words he speaks without thinking. Words of affection and about feelings. Many things he would never dare to say to her when awake but he is meaning every single one of them. 

~ ~ ~

„ _See, Beardy! Lots of fuzzy snuggly feelings inside you.“ Sera almost woke him so deep he had entangled himself into memories of moments he had admired Arya for things that had nothing to do with her body or his desires for her. There were so many! And it had been no great deal to come across them._

He loved that woman...

_It was still wrong but he could not longer deny it. Maybe if he would explain a last time that he was unworthy..._

_He would not be able to let go. Not after all his considerations. If she would dump him, he would have to deal with it but if not, he would not be able to hold back for ever._

_Blackwall looked outside the window. The sun was already about to set. Not much time._

„ _Sera, can you lockpick the doors to her chambers for me? I have some talking to do.“ He asked and Sera snorted._

„Talking _! Sure!“_

„ _Can you or can you not? I have no time for games right now. Wartable meeting will probably end soon and I wanna be there when she gets back!“_

„ _Yeah, whatever. I’ll bring you in. Off we go, Beardy! Off to fuzzy puffy smoochy love.“_

„ _Yeah, indeed,_ whatever _...“ Blackwall left some coins on the table and followed the Rogue with a deep sigh._

 


End file.
